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She thought of them as fools, but had been sorry to see them go. Her husband finally relented. \" Said John as he piled the papery remnants of their meal onto the tray. ‘Madame, I trust I see you well?’ ‘Merci. Spurlock, filled with self-mockery, sat in a chair on the west veranda. It is the horse of the priest, you understand, and—and he does not know that I have borrowed it. Occasionally the canvas snapped as the wind veered slightly.
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